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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25312201">Stormy Weather</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Longitudinalwave/pseuds/Longitudinalwave'>Longitudinalwave</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Flash (Comics)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 02:16:03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,618</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25312201</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Longitudinalwave/pseuds/Longitudinalwave</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Clyde Mardon, a respected scientist, bails his screwup of a younger brother out of jail...and by doing so brings an emotional thunderstorm into his home. </p><p>Trigger warning for verbal abuse and a suicide attempt.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Stormy Weather</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hi. Thanks for checking out my story. </p><p>This story is set (basically) Pre-Crisis, about a year before the Weather Wizard's debut in Flash #110. Thus, Clyde is alive, Mark isn't a supervillain yet, and the weather wand itself is not yet complete. </p><p> </p><p>There is both verbal abuse and a suicide attempt in this story. If either of these things will cause you anxiety or bring back traumatic memories, you might want to avoid this story.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Clyde Mardon sighed in exhaustion. His younger brother, Mark, had just called him and told him that he had been arrested for burglary-again-and that he needed bail-</span>
  <em>
    <span>again. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mark, I can’t keep bailing you out like this. At some point, you’re going to have to take control of your own life.” He’d given Mark this speech about ten times before, but it clearly hadn’t sunk in yet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe you’re right, Clyde, but I’m not smart like you. Can’t you help me out just one more time? Please?” Mark replied. Clyde groaned. He knew that Mark’s promises were completely empty, but the man was his brother, and he just couldn’t bring himself to abandon him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“All right. But this is the last time. The next time you do something stupid, you’re on your own.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, thank you! Thank you, Clyde! You’re the best!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll see you in thirty minutes or so. Good-bye.” Clyde grabbed his wallet, left his house, got into his car, and drove to Central City’s main police station. Upon arrival, he exited his car, walked inside, and found his ne’er-do-well brother locked in a cell. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hi, Clyde,” Mark said sheepishly. Clyde nodded to him and turned to the officers who were guarding the cell. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hello, officers. I’m here to post bail for him,” he said. The guards took Clyde to the appropriate office, and thirty minutes later, he and his brother were leaving the station together. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What am I going to do with you?” Clyde asked his brother in annoyance. Mark smiled nervously. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry,” he said, sounding a bit embarrassed. The two brothers entered Clyde’s car as Clyde asked,</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What were you thinking?” Mark shrugged. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I lost this poker game and I really needed money….” Clyde groaned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So you decided to break into an innocent person’s house and steal their television set?” Mark nodded. </span>
</p><p><span>“Pretty much, yeah,” he said awkwardly. Clyde had to resist the urge to facepalm. </span><span><br/></span> <span>“If you needed money, I could have gotten you a job,” he said as he buckled himself in.</span></p><p>
  <span>“A job? No way, Clyde, that’s too much work. And besides, I’m too stupid to last more than a week in any job, let alone a smart person job like you have.” Clyde frowned. As much as he hated to admit it, his mother was right in calling Mark lazy and shiftless. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, Mark……” he murmured. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, yeah, I know, I’m a lazy bum. You’re right. But look, Clyde, nobody’ll ever be able to compete with you, so why bother trying? Stealing is much easier than attempting to find a job that could hold a candle to yours.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It might be easier in the short run, but if you get arrested enough times, you’ll get sent to prison and not just jail-and if you think that’ll be easier, you’re delusional,” Clyde told his brother. Why wouldn’t Mark listen? Why didn’t he ever listen? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can we just go to your place, please?” Mark asked, clearly trying to change the subject. Clyde decided not to press the issue further. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes-as soon as you put on your seat belt,” he said. Mark complied, and Clyde drove back to his home in silence. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Doesn’t it ever get lonely being out in the middle of nowhere like this?” Mark asked him as they pulled into his driveway. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not particularly. It helps me think.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you need help thinking for? You’re a genius!” Mark asked incredulously. Clyde paused, unsure of how to explain the concept to his attention-loving little brother. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, as you know, I’ve never been crazy about all the attention I received when we were kids. It was nice to be appreciated, but I knew that a lot of the people who fawned over me wouldn’t have given me a second glance if I hadn’t been handsome and intelligent and popular, and I didn’t want to spend my entire life wondering if people liked me because I was a good person or because they liked the idea of being connected to a person who was always in the limelight, so I left,” he explained after a few seconds of thinking. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re crazy! Why would you ever run away from everyone loving you?” Mark sounded so offended that Clyde might as well have told him that he ate small children. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because they didn’t love me-half of them didn’t even know me! They just liked the idea of my fame and the fame they thought I could bring to them through association.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’d rather have everyone want me for the wrong reasons than have nobody want me at all,” Mark said longingly. Clyde laughed, although the situation really wasn’t very funny. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What a pair we make. I have fame and I’d do anything to get rid of it, and you want fame but can’t get it-at least, not in a positive way,” he remarked. Mark smiled weakly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wanna change lives?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe if you clean up your act.” The brothers got out of the car and went into Clyde’s house.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nice place you got here. Very hermity,” Mark said, as though their conversation about fame had never happened. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, it might not be the Ritz, but it has to be better than a jail cell.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Touché,” Mark said. An awkward silence ensued, and Clyde could only guess as to what his reprobate of a brother was thinking. Was he nervous about the jail term that he was almost certain to do? Was he mad that he’d gotten caught? Was he feeling guilty? As a boy, he had practically been able to read his brother’s thoughts, but now that they were, for all intents and purposes, strangers, he had no idea as to what his brother was thinking or feeling. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So ...uh, what have you been up to?” Mark asked after about two minutes had passed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve been working on a project that, if all goes well, could benefit mankind in endless ways. Unfortunately for you, the project is supposed to remain a secret to the public until I have completed it, so I can’t tell you more than that-and even if I could, I frankly don’t trust you enough to think that you wouldn’t try to use it for one of your hair-brained schemes,” Clyde replied. Mark laughed awkwardly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah ...probably so,” he said, in a tone of voice that clearly indicated that he didn’t find Clyde’s accusations funny at all. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry, Mark, but nothing you’ve ever done has suggested to me that you’re trustworthy enough to give you access to such a valuable invention.” Mark frowned. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Clyde, you’re my brother. I’d never betray you.” Clyde sighed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wish I could believe that,” he said sadly. As much as he longed to be able to believe his brother, he knew that Mark had a habit of breaking promises when the chips were down. When he was desperate, almost nothing was off the table for him-possibly not even stealing from his family. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why can’t you? I’ve never once betrayed you before-never! I never even told mom and dad about that one time you broke curfew to go feed a stray dog!” Mark whined. Clyde frowned. It was true that Mark hadn’t betrayed him yet (unless one counted breaking his endless promises that he would never need money again), but his track record was not good and strongly suggested that it might happen someday. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mark, I can’t show you my invention, and that’s final. Now stop pestering me about it, or I’ll kick you out and leave you to find shelter somewhere else,” Clyde said firmly. Mark’s eyes widened in shock. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, okay, I’ll stop asking about it. Sheesh.” Another awkward silence ensued, this one broken by the ring of the telephone. Clyde gratefully picked up the phone, only to wish he hadn’t when he heard his mother’s voice on the other end. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hello, Clyde. How are you, darling? And when are you coming back to Bridgeville? Your father and I miss you so much!” she asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hello, mother. I’m doing well here, and I’m not planning on coming back to Bridgeville in the near future. You see, I’m quite busy with a very important invention, and I need solitude to help me think and ensure that no one finds out about it before it’s completed-though I do miss you and dad. How have you been?” Clyde replied.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, we’re doing well, and we couldn’t be prouder of you. You’re every parent’s dream come true.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you, mother. In speaking of parenting, I have someone else here who probably wants to talk to you,” Clyde said. He shoved the phone into Mark’s hands. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hel-lo?” Mark asked, looking confused. A few seconds later, he went pale. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mom? But you haven’t talked to me in years!” Another few seconds passed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, so you were calling for Clyde. Why am I not surprised?” Clyde tried to ignore the death glare his brother was shooting at him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I don’t really want to talk to you, either, Mom. And my name is MARK!” Mark yelled after about a minute. Then he angrily slammed the phone down. Clyde frowned. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did you even try to tell her that you got arrested again?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why would I do that? She already thinks that I’m the world’s most humongous loser and that you’re a saint, so I didn’t see any need to make things worse.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She’s our mother. She deserves to know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Know what? That I’m a two-bit thug? That I’m a moron? That I’ve done something else that she can use to compare me to you?” Mark screamed. Clyde winced. As much as he wished it were otherwise, his brother had a point. Mark and their mother were already about as distant as it was possible for two people to be, so it wasn’t like the secret would force them apart or damage their relationship, and hearing that her younger son had done something stupid yet again was unlikely to endear Mark to their mother, so telling her would have been pointless anyway. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know what? You’re right. Mom wouldn’t have done anything productive with that knowledge,” he admitted. Mark smiled, evidently pleased that he had gotten his older brother to agree with him, and then asked, </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, you got anything to eat in this place? I’m starving.” Clyde shook his head. That was Mark for you-always thinking with his stomach. He lead his brother to the kitchen, where Mark eagerly opened the refrigerator-only to scowl in annoyance about thirty seconds later. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s wrong?’ </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why don’t you have any meat?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because I’m a vegetarian, Mark. If you want food, you’ll have to take what I have.” Mark made a face, but he made himself a bowl of salad anyway, which he proceeded to devour ravenously. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re acting like you haven’t eaten in a week,” Clyde remarked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That would be because I haven’t,” Mark replied casually. Clyde’s mouth fell open. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Exactly how much money did you lose in that poker game?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Every cent I had,” Mark replied sheepishly. Clyde had to resist a strong urge to facepalm. It was sometimes amazing to Clyde that his brother was still alive, given his utter lack of common sense. Mark got himself a second bowl of salad as Clyde tried to come up with a conversation topic that wouldn’t embarrass either one of them. He was about to give up when he heard a clap of thunder. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you think about the weather we’ve been having lately?” Mark looked up from his salad bowl. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s been wet-wet and stormy,” he said, sounding oddly pleased. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And that’s good?” Clyde asked in confusion. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah. I love watching storms. Just imagine having that kind of power-the respect it would bring you,” Mark replied rapturously. Clyde frowned. It was definitely a good thing that he hadn’t told his good-for-nothing kid brother about his latest project, because the idea of Mark with that level of power was deeply unsettling. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mark, you don’t get respect from having power-you get respect for being a good person,” he said nervously. Mark laughed bitterly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, right, ‘cause mom and dad think you’re the best thing since sliced bread because you’re nice and not because you’re a combination of Einstein and some movie star,” he muttered sarcastically. Clyde took the words like a punch to the gut, as, if he was honest, he was fairly sure that his parents would still have worshipped him if he’d been a selfish brat (as long as he’d remained intelligent and handsome). Mark then took his attack a step further. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Face it, Clyde, if you started acting just like I do, our parents would still like you better, because you’re clever and good-looking and I’m not. You have no room to be telling me that people don’t respect anything but being ‘good’,” he snapped. Clyde shook his head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not everyone is like our parents, Mark,’ he said. Much to Clyde’s surprise, the anger drained from Mark’s face, and he sighed wearily.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re right. Not everyone’s like them-because you’re not like them,” he said sadly. Clyde sat down next to his brother. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mark, when are you going to stop doing this to people-and yourself? You can’t use our parents as an excuse to ruin your life and hurt other people,” he said, as gently as he could given the severity of Mark’s behavior. Mark shrugged.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I….I don’t know, Clyde. Screwing up is the only thing I’m good at,” he said. Thunder boomed, and the house shook. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, with an attitude like that, of course it is.” Mark just stared at him in annoyed disbelief. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s attitude got to do with it? I’m a lazy, stupid bum and we both know it. I can’t change the truth.” Clyde frowned. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then change who you are. If you change, the truth will change with you-and you’re not stupid. Foolish, yes, but not stupid. You have the capacity to be as intelligent as anyone else.” Mark didn’t look convinced, but he did drop the subject.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You seeing anyone?” he asked, a smirk on his face. Clyde slapped his brother’s arm. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, I am not seeing anyone, and if I was, I’m not sure I’d tell you. You’d be more than likely to make fun of me until the end of time,” he said. Mark smiled “innocently”. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was just asking. After all, the girls were all over you when we were in high school.” Clyde rolled his eyes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re not in high school anymore, Mark. I haven’t even had a date in three years.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“In other words, you’ve become super boring.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’d rather be boring than headed to jail.” Mark shook his head. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Touché again.” Mark finished eating his second bowl of salad as a third awkward silence fell over them. Clyde put Mark’s bowls into the sink as his brother stared out the window at the storm that was still raging outside. There was a flash of lightning and a clap of thunder, and Mark smiled. For a split second, Clyde swore that he saw his brother’s eyes spark with electricity, but when he looked closer, the effect had vanished. Clyde shook his head. He had probably just imagined it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you want to do something?” he asked after about three minutes of awkwardness. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You have any beer?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay. Um ...do you have any movies?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No. I don’t watch television.” Mark looked at him in surprise.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You used to.” Clyde shrugged.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I suppose I just lost interest.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then how about cards? You have any cards?” Clyde smiled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Actually, yes. I’ve become a pretty good bridge player since I last saw you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Great! Let’s play!” Mark exclaimed. Clyde left the room and returned with a deck of cards. The two played bridge for about an hour, and Clyde won rather handily. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How did you get so good at cards?” Mark asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t think I’m good at cards-I think you’re just really bad at cards.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe so. It would explain how I lost all my money on a poker game.” Clyde sighed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, it probably would explain that,” he said, a bit exasperatedly. Mark yawned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you have a spare bedroom, or am I sleeping on the couch?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m afraid you’re on the couch. This house isn’t very big to begin with, and my lab takes up a lot of space,” Clyde replied apologetically. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, that’s fine. After jail, I can sleep anywhere.” As if to prove his point, he left the kitchen and collapsed onto the couch. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good night, Mark.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Night, Clyde,” Mark said drowsily. Five minutes later, he was fast asleep, and Clyde was struck by how young he looked. Logically, he knew he shouldn’t have been-Mark was only twenty-one-but his anger and greed made him look far older when he was awake. He gently brushed Mark’s hair out of his face and then went to his lab, where the weather wand awaited him. Although it wasn’t much to look at, the wand was his magnum opus. He had already spent a year and a half working on it, and it would probably take three years more to complete, but he was very proud with what he had already accomplished. If everything went as planned, the ability to stop devastating floods, tornadoes, and hurricanes, and perhaps to end world hunger, would be in humanity’s grasp. The wand would do the world so much good, and it was honestly an honor that he had been selected to build it. Clyde spent the next five hours working on the wand and then fell asleep at his desk. He woke up at 8:30 the next morning, left the lab, locked the door behind him, and went to the living room, where he found Mark still asleep on the couch. He went to the kitchen and ate breakfast, then went back to the living room and gently shook his brother awake. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good morning, little brother.” Mark blinked a few times, as though not certain of where he was, and then replied, </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, yeah, you bailed me out yesterday. Thanks.” Clyde nodded and asked, </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you want to eat breakfast?” Mark smiled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I never say no to free food.” Clyde shook his head and grinned. It seemed that sleep had done them both some good.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There are some leftover pancakes in the fridge,” he told his brother. Mark bolted out of the living room and into the kitchen, leaving Clyde to his thoughts. How had he and Mark drifted so far apart? Sure, they were as different as fire and ice, and obviously their parents’ favoritism of him hadn’t done their relationship any favors, but that had been as true when they were kids as it was now. How had they gone from being best friends to being strangers who were barely civil to each other? What had gone wrong with Mark? And, more worrying still, had something gone wrong with him as well? Why didn’t they like being with each other anymore? The two-minute exchange this morning was the most natural conversation they’d had in years-or would have for at least another six months thanks to Mark’s idiocy. Clyde sighed wearily and went to his bedroom to change clothes. Ten minutes later, he joined his brother in the kitchen, where Mark was eagerly scarfing down the last of the pancakes. Clyde frowned-he’d wanted to eat at least one of them-but he didn’t say anything. Mark wasn’t going to be here for more than a week, so there was no point in laying down a lot of ground rules for food. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re a great cook,” Mark said. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks.” Clyde sat down next to his brother. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe I should grow my hair out. It looks good on you,” he added.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nah, it wouldn’t fit you. You’re too uptight,” Mark replied jocularly. Clyde flicked a napkin at his brother. </span>
</p><p> <span>“I’ll show you uptight!” With that, Clyde tackled his brother out of his chair and the two started a rather childish but good-natured wrestling match that ended when Mark accidentally punched him in the eye. </span></p><p>
  <span>“Ha! I got you good!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, you did. It’s a good thing that you have a lousy swing, or that would’ve been really painful.” Mark crossed his arms. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re just mad that I won.” Clyde smiled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Whatever makes you happy.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What would make me happy is you admitting that I cleaned your clock.” Clyde laughed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re something else, little brother.” He lead his brother out of the kitchen and put his hand on his brother’s shoulder. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mark, I’m glad that we’re getting along so well, but I want you to tell me the truth. Aren’t you even a little guilty or worried about what you’ve done?” Mark looked away pointedly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Clyde, we have a good thing going. Don’t ruin it by bringing up unpleasant things.” Clyde sighed in exhaustion. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mark, listen to me. I’m worried about you-and, for that matter, about the people you keep trying to steal from. Just tell me the truth,” he pleaded. Mark paused for a few seconds, then said,</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fine. I’ll tell you. Yeah, I’m worried. After I got beat to within an inch of my life the last time I went to jail, how could I not be? I’m stupid, but I ain’t THAT stupid. I’m annoyed that I was clumsy enough to get caught in the act and really annoyed that I thought it was a good idea in the first place. I already knew from last time that I’m a terrible burglar, and I do feel a little lousy for trying to steal an old guy’s TV-even if the old guy had a gun. I’m just….all mixed up, you know?” Clyde groaned. On the one hand, it was good to know that his brother had normal human emotions and felt at least a little guilt, but on the other hand, it was very frustrating to deal with someone who had gotten into such an unpleasant situation and seemed to have no idea as to how he had gotten there despite it being perfectly obvious to anyone with so much as a hint of common sense. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you knew it was such a bad idea, why did you do it?” Mark shrugged.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because I knew that I would be prepared for what was coming if I botched it. I’d rather fail in a familiar way than in an unfamiliar one.” Clyde frowned. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mark, you were breaking the law! You were going to steal from someone!” Mark looked at the ground.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know, okay? It was a stupid idea, and I’m a creep for having come up with it, but what did you expect? I’m Mark Mardon, remember-lazy, stupid, selfish, pathetic Mark Mardon!” he said, growing gradually more hysterical with each word. Clyde just shared at him. He’d known for awhile that his brother’s self-esteem tended to fluctuate wildly, but he’d never heard him sound this angry at himself. After a few seconds, he blurted out,</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And how does any of that justify what you did?” Mark laughed, and his eyes seemed to spark again. Clyde drew back in alarm, as his brother seemed less than human. How had things gone downhill so quickly? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, nothing I do can be justified, Clyde. That’s why I don’t try to justify it. I just don’t understand why you expect me to behave well when I’m-what was it that mom calls me?-oh, yeah, a reprobate! I’m a criminal, a creep, a loser! I’m bad at everything-and that includes being good! I’ll never be anything but a bad guy, so why do you act like what I’m doing is a surprise?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because you’re my little brother! I grew up with you, and I know that you’re more than just a “bad guy”-or would be if you would just try! I love you, and watching you destroy your life-and worse, hurt innocent people-is tearing me apart!” At this, Mark seemed to wilt. Instead of looking frightening, he now just looked defeated. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What did I do to deserve you?” he muttered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nothing- but we’re family. You don’t have to earn my concern.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span> “You’re a saint, you know that?” Clyde shook his head sadly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, I’m not. I’m just a man,” he replied quietly. If he was a saint, they wouldn’t be in this mess. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, whatever you are, you’re the only one who cares about me.” With that, Mark burst into tears, and Clyde was left with the task of calming him down enough to continue having a rational conversation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There, there, little brother. There, there,” he said gently as his brother cried into his shoulder. Ten minutes later, Mark had finally calmed down enough to be comprehensible again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry about that ...display,” he said. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What, the angry yelling or the hysterical crying?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Both.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I forgive you,” Clyde said, unsure of how else to reply. After a few more seconds of the now terribly familiar awkward silence, Clyde noticed that his brother’s clothes had gotten rather wrinkled overnight. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh, Mark? Do you want to borrow some of my clothes?” Mark shrugged.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I guess so. Where’s the bedroom?” Clyde pointed him in the right direction, and he vanished, then reappeared about seven minutes later in pants that fit well and a shirt that was almost comically too large for him. Clyde frowned. He’d forgotten about the difference in their physiques. While they were both 6’1”, he was rather built and looked (according to his high school sweetheart, at least) like an action hero, while Mark was slender and looked like he might be knocked over by a stiff breeze. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Clyde, I don’t think this shirt is going to work.”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Definitely not.” Mark rushed back into Clyde’s room and returned about a minute later wearing his wrinkled green shirt. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not pretty, but it’ll do in a pinch,” Mark said. Clyde smiled. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Besides, it’s not like you have anywhere special to go.” Mark laughed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Forget being a scientist-you should’ve been a comedian.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why, so that mom and dad would’ve been angry at both of us?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah!” Mark exclaimed, a bit too enthusiastically. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What happened to you appreciating me?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, I still appreciate you, Clyde. I just wish that you had a reason to need me the way that I need you.” Clyde frowned. There went his brother’s bizarre mood swings. Or ...or was it manipulation? He hated to think that his brother was trying to manipulate him, but it was entirely possible.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mark, are you trying to manipulate me? Because that felt a lot like a guilt trip,” he asked. Mark’s blank expression made it clear that the idea had not crossed his mind, and Clyde relaxed. Of course it hadn’t been an act. Even Mark would never sink that low. He laughed nervously.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, what was I thinking? Of course you aren’t,” he said quickly, before Mark could get more upset (or strangely affectionate). Luckily, Mark seemed to be willing to avoid another emotional display. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Even I’m not stupid enough to try to manipulate you. You know me too well for that,” he said before vanishing into the kitchen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mark, do you want me to stick around, or can I go back to my work?” Clyde yelled after him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you trust me enough to not be afraid that I’ll botch something up, sure!” Mark yelled back. Clyde was pretty sure that the last sentence had been an attempted guilt trip, but he went to his lab anyway. He immediately went to work on the weather wand and was absorbed in the work until he had finished one of the main components of the wand, at which point he checked his watch and was alarmed to learn that it was 6:30 PM. The idea of Mark being alone in his home for such a long time did not sit well with him, so he rushed out of the lab, only just remembering to lock the door behind him as he left, and ran to the kitchen, where he found Mark sitting at the table, covered in blood and looking bewildered. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mark! What happened?” he asked. Mark relaxed noticeably upon seeing him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, Clyde! I’m glad you showed up, because I have no idea where the first aid kit is-assuming you have one, that is.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What happened?” Clyde repeated. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I had a little accident with the kitchen knife.” He held up his left hand, and, sure enough, it was dripping blood from a deep cut. Clyde sighed wearily for what felt like the fiftieth time. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’d ask you if you washed the cut, but seeing as it’s obviously bleeding, it’s clear you didn’t, so I’ll start off by telling you to do that.” Mark obliged, and Clyde went hunting for his first-aid kit. He found it by his bathroom sink about a minute later and rushed back to his brother, who had somehow managed to get his entire shirt wet while washing his hands. Clyde decided that asking about it would probably only frustrate him more and took his brother’s hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“One of these days, you’re going to kill yourself in an embarrassing manner if you don’t get some more common sense,” he said as he bandaged the wound. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t I know it.” Clyde sighed and stood up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There. You’re good,” he said brusquely. Mark smiled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks, Clyde. You’re the greatest.” Clyde frowned. If Mark really thought he was so terrific, why did he never take his advice? Why did he insist on ripping his heart to shreds? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, new rule. No touching sharp things if I’m not in the room.”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Got it,” Mark replied, clearly embarrassed. The rest of the day, and the following two days, passed in a blur. Mark didn’t have any more mishaps or bizarre emotional outbursts, and Clyde worked nonstop on his weather wand. However, on the fifth day, Clyde was awoken by someone knocking on the door and he opened it to find his mother. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hello, Clyde darling. How are you? I just couldn’t stand to wait any longer to see you, so I decided to come visit.” Clyde’s face went white. Of all the times for his mother to show up, why did it have to be today? She knew that Mark was still here and everything! This would cause nothing but needless trouble. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mom, I’m glad you’re here, really, but…..Mark is still here, and I don’t think it’s a good idea to have both of you in the house at the same time,” he told her gently. His mother scowled at the mention of her younger son’s name. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t understand why you put up with him. He’s a criminal, a no-good, selfish, worthless fool. You’ve bailed him out of trouble more times than I can count, and he’s still doing the same stupid things. He’ll never change, Clyde, and I strongly advise that you cut all ties with that shiftless parasite. You’re going to be world-famous, darling, and you can’t have a criminal brother ruining your reputation. He’s utterly useless, and if he won’t stay in the house with me, then throw him out. I’m not the one who’s squandered every opportunity I’ve been given,” she ranted. Clyde realized too late that his brother had entered the room, probably to see who the knocker was, and that he had heard every word. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Go ahead, Clyde. She’s right. Throw me out if you want-I’ll never be worth anything! Isn’t that right, </span>
  <em>
    <span>mom</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” Mark snapped angrily.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mark-” Clyde began.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What? Was it not what it sounded like? Was mom not trying to convince you to kick me out?” Mark asked quietly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She was. But I didn’t agree to do it.” Did Mark really believe that he thought of him as worthless? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why? What was stopping you?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s stopping him is that he’s crazy enough to believe that you-a hoodlum who’s never given him or us anything but grief since you were old enough to walk-could change! He thinks that you appreciate what he sacrifices to save your worthless skin!” their mother exclaimed before Clyde could stop her. Mark scowled. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Brought you nothing but grief, did I? That’s rich, coming from a woman who never stopped telling me that I was second-rate and that I should be more like my brother and comparing me to him in front of people. You’re as good at causing grief as I am!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, so now it’s a crime to tell the truth, is it? You’ve never been anything but a parasite, taking advantage of our good will to avoid working or doing anything productive. If it wasn’t for your saint of a brother, you’d be dead by now, and we’d be happier and better for it!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You wish he was dead?” Clyde asked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, I do, and why not? He’s not just useless, he’s an active threat. He deserves to die, and when he does, we’ll be free of a burden to our lives.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But he’s your son-my little brother. I know he’s far from a good person, as much as I hate to admit it, but I can’t wish him dead. I love him.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s not capable of love,” his mother spat. Mark’s eyes seemed to spark again, and Clyde went even whiter with fear. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe you’re right, mother. Maybe I am a monster,” Mark said, almost in a whisper. He shoved their mother violently out of the way and ran out the door. Clyde made sure that his mother hadn’t been hurt, then ran after his brother. He found him staring at the lake that his house was built near. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I should kill you for what you did to mother,” he said angrily.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you mean? I didn’t hurt her none-and even if I did, you heard what she said about me! I’m worthless, useless, stupid, selfish-I’m a parasite. She wishes I were dead! Do you know what it feels like to have your own mother tell you that she would be happy if you died? Do you? Of course you don’t, because mom loves you!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And why shouldn’t she? I didn’t run away from home, take up a life of petty crime, and refuse to get help! I didn’t flunk out of high school or make her worry sick about me! She’s right-I should stop helping you! The only thing you care about is yourself!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Clyde, she never loved me! Ever since I could walk, I’ve heard her complaining about how I couldn’t measure up to you, and when it became obvious that I never would, that I was a failure, she told me that I was a burden and never looked back. She thinks-she’s always thought-that I’m nothing compared to you, and I hate her! I hate her for it! I already knew I was a loser, but it hurts-it hurts so much-to know that she agrees. But if you think she’s right about me-heck, she probably is-I might as well kill myself, here and now. I’d be doing you a favor.” Clyde scowled. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Stop trying to manipulate me, Mark. I’m tired of feeling guilty for something that wasn’t my fault, and I’m tired of playing your games!” Then, much to his surprise-and horror-Mark started walking into the water. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you think you’re doing? You can’t swim!” Mark’s eyes seemed to spark.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I told you. I’m killing myself. You can go tell mom that she got her wish,” he said, in a tone that was terrifyingly calm. Clyde grabbed his brother and pulled him as far away from the water as he could get him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let me go! You said it yourself-I’m worthless! Nobody wants me. Nobody’s ever wanted a loser like Mark Mardon! So let me die! Between you and mom, you got me thinking about myself, and even if you’re wrong and I’m not a parasite, I can’t see any reason to go on. I’m too stupid to come up with a way to make things better and I’m probably too bad to change, and I don’t have anything to look forward to but being beat up in jail, so I might as well die. At least then I wouldn’t have to think about how my own mother hates me so much that she wishes she’d never had me. At least then I wouldn’t have to live with myself-pathetic, stupid, useless Mark Mardon!” Mark punched, kicked, and flailed, but Clyde held him firm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mark, I’m...I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that Mom was right about you. She’s not. I was just so angry at you for not listening to me-and that all came to the surface when mom showed up. I hate what you do to me, to other people, to our parents, and to yourself, but I don’t hate you, and I don’t want you dead. No matter what idiotic stunts you pull, you’re still my brother, and no matter how much you hurt me, I can’t let you go. I love you. I know you’re more than our parents say you are. You’re not worthless-if you were, you couldn’t hurt me so much. You’re wrong, Mark- I want you. I want you very much. Why else would I keep coming back for you?” Clyde told his brother through frightened tears. As much as part of him wished he could feel what his mother did towards his brother, he couldn’t. His brother was too dear to him. Why couldn’t Mark see that? Mark finally stopped struggling. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re crazy, Clyde.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe. But so are you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Touché, big brother. Touché.” Clyde took his idiot brother back home, where their mother was still waiting. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why are you both wet?” she asked. Clyde sighed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mother, I love you, but…..but…...Mark just tried to kill himself because he thinks he’s worthless. I know he’s a pain to deal with, I can understand why you don’t want to spend time with him-but telling him you wish he was dead is too much,” he said gently. His mother frowned. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, if you want to take that parasite’s side over your own mother’s, I’ll leave. I know when I’m not wanted.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mom-wait-” Before Clyde could continue, his mother stormed out of the house, slamming the door behind her, and drove away. Mark winced. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry for making mom mad at you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“For once, Mark, that wasn’t your fault.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Really?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, really. That was Mom’s choice, not yours.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Two days later, Mark and Clyde were sitting in a courtroom. Mark had just been sentenced to nine months in jail, and Clyde was no longer responsible for his brother. Before Mark was lead away, Clyde walked up to him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span> “If you need me after you get out, you know where to find me, little brother. And please, learn from this, Mark. You don’t have to spend your life doing this.” Mark smiled weakly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re something else, Clyde. I may think you’re insane, but you’re a great brother. I can’t believe you’d stick beside me after all this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What else are brothers for? Remember, I love you, no matter what crazy nonsense you pull. I won’t bail you out again, but I’ll always be there for you.”</span>
</p><p> <span>“I...I love you too, big brother. Keep out of trouble.” Clyde shook his head wearily.</span></p><p>
  <span>“Oh, Mark. Good-bye, good luck, and for goodness’ sake, keep your nose clean after this.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bye, Clyde,” Mark replied as he was lead off. As soon as he was gone, Clyde left the courtroom and drove home, then collapsed on his couch. Dealing with his younger brother was like walking through a storm- and it would take some time before the tempestuous emotions Mark stirred up were quieted. However, emotional distress was not an adequate reason to stop working, and so he went to his laboratory and began to work on the weather wand once more. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you for reading my story. </p><p>If you (or a loved one) is considering suicide:<br/>National Suicide Prevention Lifeline<br/>1-800-273-8255</p><p>You are not alone.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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